


You Don't Know What It Would Do

by back on my bullshit (master_obi_wan_kenboneme)



Series: Oneshots and Short Stories [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Graphic Description, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Suicide Attempt, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/master_obi_wan_kenboneme/pseuds/back%20on%20my%20bullshit
Summary: Steve wasn't going to be a coward tonight. He swore it to himself.(he was a coward)
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Oneshots and Short Stories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818901
Comments: 1
Kudos: 80





	You Don't Know What It Would Do

**Author's Note:**

> TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, REFERENCES TO SELF-HARM, HOMOPHOBIC SLURS

Steve was standing a step away from the edge of the quarry. Any closer and the rocks might slip out from under him, rendering him no control even over his death. 

(which was the one thing he hoped desperately to make his own)

His hands were in the pockets of the thin jacket he threw on before getting out of his car.

He decided on that one because it was lightweight enough to let his body float atop the water after it broke his bones. 

(he had another one in the passenger seat of the BMW if he decided he wanted to sink.)

His legs felt a little wobbly. The pills he took earlier were finally doing their job, he guessed. 

The one night Steve Harrington had enough courage to not be a goddamn coward, the one night he finally wasn’t carting around kids, the one night he didn’t have a tutor, the one night he wasn’t third-wheeling on Nancy and Johnathan, he shows up.

Billy Har-fucking-grove. 

And he was really going to do it, too. Had the note in his car and everything, a small list distributing a few of his belongings under it. 

A car roared up along the road behind him, startling him out of thoughts he didn’t know he was having. Some sort of metal music poured out of the open windows along with the smell of cigarette smoke.

“The hell are you doing here, Harrington?”

His words were slurred but Steve didn’t think it was from anything drug-related. It sounded like he was just high off of the thrill of driving down the empty highway at 70 miles per hour. Steve understood that. Whenever his parents were around he’d pretend to be busy and drive to Indy and back just to avoid his dad’s fists and his mom’s words.

“You know, I really don’t see how it has anything to do with you, Billy,” he shouted over his shoulder as the Camaro came to a stop a few feet away. 

“Didn’t know we were on a first-name basis, pretty boy.”

“Yeah, well…” Steve trailed off. How did he respond to that? ‘I’m going to kill myself and maybe I’m just enough of a faggot to not want you to think I hated you when I was finally gone’?

He didn’t say anything else, only took a step back. He didn’t resent Billy enough to force him to watch another boy’s death. Billy sat in his car for a while longer. When he turned up his music, Steve turned and walked to his car. He opened the backseat and shed his thin jacket to replace it with the larger one. A flash caught his eye from the floorboard. Steve reached over to grab the bloody razor blade, slipping it in the pocket of the thick jacket.

“If you’re cold why don’t you just sit in your fancy car with the heating, huh?”

“Not cold,” he mumbled back. He stepped back toward the ledge, crossing his legs underneath him and sinking down slowly. The cigarette that had been hanging from his lips fell into his lap, tumbling into the rocks and snuffing itself out. He grabbed another one out of the box in his front pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag.

“Hey, King Steve! Can I bum a cig? Smoked all mine of the way here.”

The older boy just sighed and turned toward Billy’s car, tossing the whole box.

“Feelin’ generous tonight aren’t we, rich boy?”

“I’m not, actually. Just won’t need them anymore.”

“Aw, you trying to quit? Pretty boy finally got his morals together?”

Steve let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. 

“I was hoping that tonight I’d be alone out here so I could finally fucking jump, but you had to take that, too, didn’t you?” He got up and went to his car once again, fishing the note and list from his dash. He walked around the front of his car and approached Billy’s.

“I guess you can give this to the police or whoever realizes that I’m gone since you’re already here,” he continued, offering them to Billy between his middle and pointer finger. Instead, the other boy grabbed his wrist. He either ignored the scars or didn't notice them. 

“You can’t go dying on me, Harrington. Don’t want to end up babysitter for those kids of yours.”

“A little late for that, Billy. Just—just look away or something if you don’t want to watch.” He pried his hand out of Billy’s grip and turned back to the quarry. Seconds after, the driver door of the Camaro was slamming shut. 

“You’re being stupid, Harrington!”

“That’s kinda what put me here, Hargrove.” Steve vaguely registered a hand slapping him upside the head. 

“No, it’s not. This,” he gestured between Steve and the ledge, “is stupid. Everyone’s just going to be sad. King Steve will be gone and they’ll finally realize that there’s nothing to do in this shit town but go to your parties and sleep. Those kids? Hell, even my kid sister! What’re they going to think when Nanny Steve is gone? Who else is going to waste their time taking them to that damn arcade every day because of their stupid martyr complex?”

“I’m sure someth—”

“No, Harrington. You listen to me, now. You aren’t going to kill yourself. We’re not friends or whatever but it word gets around that you’ve offed yourself I might revive you and kill you again because of what it’ll do. To everyone.” Billy jabbed him in the chest at the end of his ramble.

“Now you’re going to get in your rich boy car and I’m going to make sure you get to your rich boy house and then I’m going to watch you burn that stupid note and throw the rest of it in your stupid rich boy pool. Oh, and you’re going to give me that blade in your pocket, am I clear?”

A ghost of a smile made itself evident on Steve’s face. How ironic—he hoped that was the right use of ironic—the boy who beat his face in not a year ago and hated his guts more than anything is the only one to give a shit. He didn’t realize that he was kissing Billy until a warm hard slipped itself in his back pocket. 

“Knew you were a fucking fairy, Harrington,” Billy mumbled.

“You’re squeezing my ass,” Steve shot back.

Steve ended up giving the razor to Billy, and he let the boy watch him set the note alight. He also let Billy take him to the hospital, where Hopper was waiting for them. Steve got some new meds and got his stomach pumped and was finally released a few days later.

(the strings were still missing from his shoes)

The next time he showed up at school, a small smile crinkled the corners of Billy’s eyes when he caught Steve’s in the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on [my tumblr](https://tumblr.com/master-obi-wan-kenboneme)  
> asks and prompts are open :)


End file.
